Thursday, June 13, 2019

Thursday Poem - One Song

A cardinal, the very essence of red, stabs
the hedgerow with his piercing notes;
a chickadee adds three short beats,
part of the percussion section, and a white-
throated sparrow moves the melody along.
Last night, at a concert, crashing waves
of Prokofiev; later, the soft rain falling
steadily and a train whistle off in the distance.
And today, the sun, waiting for its cue,
comes out from the clouds for a short sweet
solo, then sits back down, rests between turns.
On the other side of the world, night’s black
bass fiddle rosins its bow, draws it over
the strings, resonates with the breath
of sleepers, animal, vegetable, human. 
All the world breathes in, breathes out.
It hums, it throbs, it improvises.  So many voices.
Only one song.

Barbara Crooker

2 comments:

Barbara Rogers said...

I like the bass fiddle image for night...resonates for me!

boyblueian said...

If it weren't for the sound of morning birds
My waking in the suburbs
Might be just an ordinary day

The birds remind me that I can hear
And I can think and be thankful
For small mercies

Cardinals and robins,
Finch and chickadee
And mystery birds that
Only people in Tilley hats
And grandmothers can name

No mourning doves
Or mockingbirds today
Nor crows or squawking jay
A lone goose (probably silly)
In search of a V

Time to meet my day
And make the coffee
Lighter on my feet
Because I listened up.